


Snowy and Zima

by LaLopez1981, Moonlight_Uni



Series: Snowy and Zima [1]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Assassin Bucky, Banished Loki, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, F/M, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki and Bucky need a friend, M/M, Not Thor: The Dark World Compliant, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Shapeshifter Loki, SorcererOfSnow, Threats of Violence, Twitter, WarriorOfWinter, WinterFrost - Freeform, ZimaVoin, depictions of violence, magic loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLopez1981/pseuds/LaLopez1981, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlight_Uni/pseuds/Moonlight_Uni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solos, twitlongers, and timeline RP mashed up for easier reading of Loki and James "Bucky" Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loki's Arrival | The Winter Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> In response to posts on tumblr questioning just how Bucky and Loki work, I decided to compile the WinterFrost RP my RP partner and I started in October 2013. This isn't the end-all, be-all for WinterFrost explanations, but it's a good example of how this former-Hydra assassin and the God of Mischief found some solace in each other.
> 
> Note: Loki is post-Avengers, but Thor: The Dark World will not come into play. Bucky is post-Captain America and CA: The Winter Soldier will weave into the story eventually.

God of Mischief. Trickster. Jotün. Monster.

Loki could now add 'Traveler' to his list of titles. He had arrived on Midgard only months ago, disappearing from Asgard —as was asked of him— and came to the only realm that he could blend into, where he was mostly unknown, and where he could disappear amidst the throng of the humans he had once tried to subjugate. To hide...

Restless, aimless, never staying in one place for too long, Loki had spent his time moving from city to city, country to country, continent to continent.

There were some beautiful places on Midgard. Nothing that really compared to the golden realm, but still breathtaking in their own right. He found he preferred the cooler places on the planet, staying mostly in the northernmost parts of most countries. Particularly those with mild to constant snowfall. Despite his ill feelings about his Jotün heritage, he could not deny that something about the cold and the snow brought to him a sense of peace that usually eluded him. He had yet to find any one place he thought he could settle; but then again, there were places he had yet to visit.

For the most part, he had avoided the North American continent. Almost two years had passed since his attack on the city of New York. His memory of the time was sparse; the prolonged effects of the Tesseract left him with only brief moments, flashes, of what he had done. Odin had taken great joy in filling him in on the missing pieces, while handing down his punishment. His banishment.

Loki cut short the thoughts before they could imprint themselves again in his mind, and bring down his mood. He was getting better, getting past it all; putting everything behind him but the future.

He kept to himself, finding it better in the long run, to be alone. No entanglements. No problems. No chance of getting into trouble, or drawing the wrong kind of attention—like accidentally summoning the God of Thunder, kind of attention. And, occasionally, that urge, that deep, dark desire to…destroy; it overwhelmed him. And there were moments he wanted to succumb; to grab the nearest lowly piece of human trash and release the pent-up aggression burning inside him.

There were times he could feel the itch in his fingers, twitching with the need to curl around the staff he once carried and blasting one mewling quim or another away. But his precious sceptre was locked away, somewhere in the darkest corner of Asgard. Or maybe Odin stashed it on another realm, just to be an ass. Loki wouldn't put it past him.

At least the Allfather had not suppressed his magic; though Loki thought perhaps Odin believed all of Loki's powers lied in the golden sceptre made of uru, as Thor's did in Mjölnir, forged by the same Asgardian metal. Fool. Still, erring on the side of caution, Loki kept use of his powers to a minimum. It would not do to attract the attention of the all-seeing Heimdall; but he also had to avoid the ever-watchful eye of S.H.I.E.L.D. A primary reason he had yet to visit New York.

Until now.

Shielding himself —irony, anyone?— with protective wards and changing his appearance only slightly—a lighter shade and a shorter cut of his usually shoulder-length, raven hair; a bluer shade of eyes from his normal viridian; light facial scruff on his angular face; and modern, Midgardian attire—Loki stepped off the airplane that had just landed at John F. Kennedy International airport (What was this habit of naming everything after random humans?) and inhaled the fresh air.

"Hello again, New York."

* * *

Torn between being a fighter and forever labelled a soviet experiment gone wrong, the masked man of winter took a tight grip of his target. It was a demon he constantly fought with even now.

The winter soldier was still deep inside enemy lines with his left bionic hand around the throat a struggling man. He squeezed a little tighter, pressing fingers in around the windpipe of the male. The man struggled, choking for breath as Bucky held him fast, dragging him backwards towards the open window.

Middle of the night and a biting wind swept up the side of the building, attacking Bucky's eyes. He narrowed them just as hair whipped across his face and he slammed the man's throat against the open ledge of the window frame.

His target was an older, plump Austrian aristocrat with crimes too numerous to list. Bucky leaned over him and booted his Kevlar clad knee to his chest to hold him down. He said nothing but there was a twisted, pleased grin on his face. The man squirmed, spouting off things in German and pleading with the man holding him to show mercy.

Bucky shook his head and in one fell swoop flipped the man, snapping his neck as he landed on his large stomach, causing him to lay limp against the sill. The soldier sent him over the edge to crash into the falling snow below. Underneath was concrete. Bones had already broken.

It wasn't his cleanest kill but it was done.

Bucky looked down over the ledge at him. His bosses would be pleased. The night drew on and snow lay in a thin sheen across the target's body. Bucky would be long gone before anyone would find the dead man in the snow.

**ooOOOoo**

PRESENT DAY

2013, Somewhere in New York, S.H.I.E.L.D.

Bucky knew what he was but, accepting that was a bigger commitment than he ever wanted in his life. The soldier had just emerged from a lengthy meeting with Director Fury and his personnel file deep at the heart of New York's S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. It had left Bucky with a lot of questions Fury couldn't answer and more concerns about his own mental state.

That was something he hated talking about. He constantly denied anything was wrong with him.

He stood, mask off his face, in the cold corridor alone wondering just where in hell he was supposed to go from here. Bucky still had his contracts that required his skills but, honestly where did it leave _him_.

S.H.I.E.L.D. could only do so much for the demons inside his head.

Bucky kept the mask off and set on foot down the corridor. He had a mission to prepare for.

**ooOOOoo**

_Russia_ , Bucky mouthed as his eyes wrapped themselves in disbelief around the letters.

Thanks a lot Fury. He hated the man and thanked him on equal terms. Bucky's gloved right hand swept over the page to reveal some photographs for him to study.

Two targets: one female, one male. Seemed easy enough until he began to read further into their location. He was certain he could get these two but, it would require some specialist equipment.

He had contacts outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. for such a call to be made.

Buck clinically prodded the picture of the pretty blonde with a thumb, scraping the thin film of the flimsy photograph.

"You're not going far..." Bucky closed over the files. Time waited for no man.

He found himself with a few hours to kill before S.H.I.E.L.D. would ship him out in the morning. The night was drawing to a close around the high-rise buildings, wrapping itself like a second skin. Bucky had left the base wrapped up against the cold to go for a walk.

He used moments like these to focus, clear his mind and keep his attention on the target.

The man was wearing a battered old leather jacket and jeans. His hair was scraped back into a rough ponytail. Bucky wasn't in the mood to be disturbed as he paced the streets away from HQ.

He just wanted time to himself.

On his walk he had stopped for coffee from one of the local independent places. He had never liked Starbucks. Too commercial. The drink was a welcome friend for his parched throat and he sipped it happily whilst continuing his walk. The coffee was soon gone and the paper cup discarded in the trash. Bucky tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and paced on.

He was thankful the night was cool but not completely intolerable. Sure he'd been through worse, but out here he was like any other guy. Mortal and exposed. His only reminding source was his left arm that occasionally glittered up at him if sleeves pulled back. Bucky kept it hidden out here, gloved up so no prying eyes could discover _who_ he really was.

Compromise was not an option. 

Bucky walked and soon the space ahead of him opened out onto Central Park. There were many green spaces in Manhattan but this one was his favourite. It was the heart of the city for him and a place he could feel at ease. The warrior made his way in, mapping familiar paths with his feet before he stopped at a stone bridge. He leaned on the edge of it, looking down into the cold waters below. He was thinking too much here. His eyes closed and a voice invaded his head to whisper things; horrible things no man should be subjected to.

Bucky's bionic hand gripped the stone edge of the bridge out of frustration. "Get out," he muttered to himself, all too aware someone may have heard him. The man's voice lowered a degree. "I told you to leave me…," he said, quietly pleading with the whispers inside his head. Bucky could take no more. He forced his eyes open and glared down into the water. He saw naught but his own rippled reflection, made darker by the closing night.

The voice, whoever or whatever it was, had long since fled his mind.

* * *

Loki was feeling restless again.

He had been in New York for a few days now but he had yet to venture out too far from his hotel. He would never admit he was frightened—he was not—but he was apprehensive about running into anyone who would recognize him.

Despite his change in appearance, he wondered if they would still see through the disguise. Loki would not call himself redeemed, but neither did anyone have any cause to concern themselves about his ulterior motives. If he was going to be stuck on this realm, he would be comfortable in it, damn it.

Tomorrow, a more permanent residence search would begin. Tonight. A walk in the cold, crisp air.

And if he happened to try his hand at manipulating the rainfall into snow, who was to know?

* * *

After the incident on the bridge in the park, Bucky had been left a little shaken; a feeling he absolutely loathed. It reminded him far too easily of how easily he could crack under certain conditions. Sure he could override it with his instinctual training, using his focus to keep a steady nerve but it sometimes wasn't enough to stop his mask from corroding away in a single snap. Bucky found his nerve again looking down into the murky reflection below. His eyes flicked up, the night was closing in. Instinct told him to move.

His feet made this so.

The soldier was too twitchy to stay here too long, too many people watching and a risk of being outed. That was the last thing he needed so he carried on like nothing had happened. The man walked on until well gone midnight and the park had cleared of everything except owls and the low hooting from the high trees. Bucky had reached the edge of the park, somewhere on the east side by his current bearings. His nose picked up on a dry smell lacing with the perfume of cold concrete. Next came the rain in soft pats down onto his face and neck. Man was it cold.

The winter warrior kept on moving, turning his footsteps in the direction of base. S.H.I.E.L.D. It wasn't home but it was _somewhere_ to temporarily call his own until circumstances turned for the better. Halfway back to the base, the rain had become worse, making his dark hair lank in its ponytail. Bucky drew the collar up around his neck against the weather, eyes narrowed against it. Though soaked he made it back. Another battle fought and won for another night.

* * *

 _If you make it snow in Central Park, and no one is around, is it really snowing?_ Loki mused as he wandered alone in New York City. His mood off tonight, he may or may not have set a building on fire in Queens. Slipping on a long black coat, thick-soled boots, and black leather gloves, Loki headed out into the night again. Keeping to the shadows, he sought out a lowly mortal to take the rest of his bad mood out on.

Another night, he thought, perhaps he would seek partners in crime. Tonight was not that night.

Finally, he found one. A filthy beast of a man, inebriated, disturbing the god—and likely others—in the small restaurant Loki had chosen to dine in that evening. The man stumbled out, after being asked to leave, but could be heard shouting at passersby and those waiting in line to enter the restaurant, harassing several of the women nearest him.

 _Such a lack of manners_ , the god mentally scolded, heaving a faux-weary sigh.

Slowly, methodically, Loki finished his meal, left a suitable amount to cover both meal and gratuity beside his plate, and slipped out of the restaurant. Buttoning his coat as he reached the sidewalk, Loki followed the path the man had taken, catching up with the stumbling fool only a block away, and discreetly brandished one of his lethally sharp daggers.

Loki knew there was a dark alley coming ahead of the stranger, and after a subtle flick of the god’s wrist, the man was suddenly suffering from a hacking cough. Curling his fingers into the man’s collar as he walked past, Loki dragged the man into the alley, far enough in that people passing by would see nothing but shadows.

The man reeked of liquor and smoke, and something else altogether, and sloppily tried to fight Loki off. Smirking, the god stepped back and encouraged him to take a stand, fight for his life.

It was a valiant effort, Loki thought. But, inevitably, the mortal was no match for the god’s lightning quick movements. For a few moments, he stood over the limp body of a stranger, enjoying the feel of blood running between his fingers. It was…orgasmic. Wiping his dagger clean with the man’s own clothes, Loki tucked it away for safekeeping and started out of the alley.

After ridding Midgard of another lowlife—or two—Loki found his way back to his place, having slaked his thirst for blood this evening. He would seek sleep now. Tomorrow: apartment hunting.

* * *

"I suppose I should be making preparations to go," the soldier said to himself as he paced from one side of the room to the other. Bucky was focused entirely on 'Project Zero' and getting to the Russian border before next sun up. He hadn't even left home turf yet. A very precise and detailed request had been posted with Director Fury concerning equipment, firearms and transport. If it wasn't met he wasn't going to be happy.

12:00 hours: He had to go but first a check-in with Fury to see about his request. It was unlikely Fury would go out of his way to deny his request but Bucky was _always_ one to double check. The soldier had on his combat gear as he took the stairs two at a time up to the Director's office. At the door he stood and knocked, awaiting pass to be let in.

Perhaps a minute later, Bucky heard that familiar voice call out, "Come in." The soldier turned the handle, careful of how much strength he exerted on the metal, and once in, closed the door behind him.

12:15 hours: Meeting with Fury took longer than expected as an impromptu phone call was received from Doctor Banner concerning something in Beijing from what Bucky could deduce. Thankfully it was nothing of high priority where S.H.I.E.L.D. were concerned.

"Now," the director said, after the phone call had been disconnected, "What can I do for you, soldier?" The question was direct and to the point. Fury never wasted time.

Bucky, by this point, had taken a seat opposite the vast span of Fury's desk, quietly awaiting to be spoken to. "Sir, I came to see about my request regarding Project Zero. I'm shipping out today and I hate missing details," Bucky explained in brief and direct terms. He kept his hands in his lap and eye contact with the Director's good eye. The man waited for his superior to speak. He noticed Fury looking through his computer screen, flicking through panes of information until he hummed when the right thing was found.

"I think this looks familiar," the Director said, moving an eye to Bucky. Fury swiped a finger down the screen. "Request approved. You'll find all you need in Bay Sixteen." The superior fell quiet. "Will that be all soldier?" Fury asked.

"Yes, sir," Bucky answered him quickly. He was soon after dismissed from the room and made his way back down the staircase to level four. His next objective was Bay Sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small reminder that this was only my second RP account (after my college!Tony) and my first real attempt at RPing Loki. Thank goodness my RP partner was so understanding!
> 
> xoxo


	2. Coffee, Masks, and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky explains coffee to Loki; the god's curiosity about the mask, and the man behind it, rises; and the two strangers make plans for a date—sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, this is trickier than I thought it'd be! Manifesting conversations from random TL banter ain't easy. But I think I've managed to get this section readable. Thanks for reading!
> 
> xoxo

“What is…coffee?” The question was posed to no one in particular, but the god had heard it mentioned enough to inquire about it.

"If anyone's asking about coffee, you'll like it,” Bucky answered. “Greatest thing to come out of the Middle East."

Loki’s brow crinkled. “The Middle East? Have I been there…?” he pondered to himself. “Does it snow?”

"The middle east is the furthest thing from snow. You tell me if you've been there."

“Nh,” Loki winced lightly. “If there is no snow, then I have likely not ventured there. I prefer cooler climates.”

"You might prefer Russia or maybe Bulgaria. Pretty cold there," he said with a nod.

“Russia, I have been. I enjoyed it there. Bulgaria…it does not sound familiar. I will have to research it. Thank you…friend.”

"It's in the eastern block of Europe. You'd like it. Hopefully." Bucky smiled once but his expression remained emotionally detached. Disappearing off again into the shadows, Bucky left the pale, wiry man to his day.

“Dark. Mysterious. Stranger. I am intrigued. But why?” Hmm. Loki watched the man disappear, a small pang of regret following. Perhaps it was better this way. Loki had told himself when he returned to Midgard, he would keep to himself. No entanglements. No problems. He went on with his plans to find a more permanent residence, thoughts, images of the dark stranger settling nicely in the back of his mind. He supposed one thing he hadn’t counted on was finding one who might change his mind about being alone.

* * *

Slipping on a charcoal coat, a black and gray checkered scarf wrapped around his neck, and a newspaper in hand, Loki headed out in search of an apartment. He might make a stop at this…Starbucks he heard mention of and try the coffee beverage.  “Update: I prefer tea to coffee. What was the term I heard? Oh yes. Yuck.”

"And I prefer coffee," Bucky interjected. "Straight up black. Hold the sugar. Tea is...well I've nothing to say about tea."

“I enjoy the aroma of coffee. 'Tis quite pleasant. But the taste is...nh.” He made a face of distaste. An idea popping into his mind, Loki grinned softly at the stranger. “Perhaps if you showed me a trick to make it taste better...?” _No, Loki. Stop it._ This is why solitude is preferable. Bad flirt.

That smoothly spoken, skinny dude was talking to him again. Bucky had a think. "Syrup. That's your answer. Makes coffee palatable."

“Syrup? I...I am afraid I am unfamiliar with the...substance. But, no matter. I will keep on with the tea.”

"Think of it as liquidised sugar."

“Liquidized sugar? Oh. That actually sounds...tempting.”

ooOOOoo

"I don't really make a habit of talking to people or about me. I'm not that interesting,” Bucky responded to someone plying him with questions.

Loki perked up hearing the familiar voice, then immediately tried to play it off, acting casual. “Perhaps you should leave that judgment to the one speaking to you.”

"I'll try that when I'm not feeling so...suspicious of the other guy."

“Suspicious? Of I?” He smirked. Clever boy.

"People as a whole,” the soldier replied. “I mean who can you trust these days apart from yourself?"

“Could not have said it better myself, actually.”

"You see. Problem solved. Everyone's a criminal threat until proven otherwise."

“Hmm.” Later, Loki left on another of his nightly walks—not seeking any blood tonight—wondering how one proves he is not a threat.

* * *

Loki sat quietly admiring photos of himself with his sceptre.

"I swear if he points that glow stick at me…” Bucky near growled. “I'm not saying. Just don't."

The god smirked, sliding cornflower blue eyes the stranger’s way. “I would only point it at one deserving of it. But you need not concern yourself, stranger. It is no longer in my possession. Regretfully,” he sighed.

"That's reassuring. Thank you." Did that come off as actual sarcasm? Bucky twitched thinking. Hopefully not.

Loki cocked a brow, trying not to grin. And failing miserably. Damn it, he was starting to find this man amusing. That was dangerous. “'Tis nothing. Though it does not mean I am unable to defend myself should the need arise.” He hoped it would not.

"Good thing you're telling me this now rather than later. Things have a tendency to get...how shall I put this—grisly, after hours."

He inhaled deeply, suppressing a hum. “Yes, I kn—I mean...define 'grisly.”

"That depends, stranger. How much truth and heat can you handle?"

His nose scrunched unwittingly at the word ‘heat.’ “You might be surprised by what I can handle.” He motioned for the man to continue. “Try me.”

"We could go back and forth like this all night, but words won't get us any closer to the real truth now will it? A challenge, I think, is more attuned to your tastes."

He perked up again. “Challenge? What did you have in mind?”

"I'd like to test your limitations, unless that's too much for you. See how much you can handle before you give in to an ordinary guy like me." Tinting his mouth was a faint smile, making the upper lip curl subtly behind the mask.

No, that was _not_ a thrill of anticipation running up Loki's spine. He set his jaw, mostly to keep his lips from curving, and fixed the dark stranger with his gaze. “Give me your worst.”

"My worst may just be your last, strange friend. You don't even know who I am and yet you come so easily. What's stopping you thinking that I'm the one you shouldn't trust? These eyes could be the last thing you'll ever see." His eyes were steady, fixed like a target on him.

Loki met his gaze evenly, his lips slightly curved at the corners. “I am no fool, dark one. I do feel a sense of danger about you, but…no other has intrigued me in the time I have been here. You are different.”

"I'm a little rogue perhaps, I'll admit that. And for the record, if anyone is watching us, I don't think you're a fool. No." Bucky shook his head. "You're a bit too clever for that label."

“Eheh—…watching?” Loki minutely tensed. “Why would anyone be watching?”

"Compromise, the next whistleblower, the latest gossip…that sort of thing; you never know who might be trying to usurp you."

Keen blue eyes did a quick sweep around the surroundings. _Fucking S.H.I.E.L.D._ , Loki thought with a sneer. “I go to great lengths to remain hidden but to those I deem worthy.” His chin lifted as he gazed down at the other. “Are you worthy, dark one?”

"You'll have to find that out for yourself, my mysterious friend." His tone hinted perhaps to a smile that was kept hidden behind the mask.

He chuckled once. “You call me mysterious. Yet I am not the one wearing a mask. I may just make it my mission to find out what you are hiding beneath it.”

Watching the other man, Bucky kept his vision honed and steady, his breathing level. "In your own time…," he said, sounding mildly bored.

“Hm. I see…” Loki thought it sounded like another challenge. He wondered if the stranger thought his terseness was off-putting to Loki. He would be wrong. “Am I keeping you from something?” Loki asked the question, not at all offended. If the man had somewhere else to be, far be it from the disguised sorcerer to keep him from it. He only hoped he would see the stranger again. “We could continue this another time, if you wish.” _Say no…_

"No one's keeping me from being here. Remember: I said rogue. I don't always play by the rules. They are more…guidelines," he explained in a vague manner. Bucky now looked at him with a new spike of interest, wondering, thinking what this stranded, strange man could possibly want with him. "My options are open, stranger. Pick your poison and let's see what happens."

“Why do we not find an establishment at some point, procure some beverages, and you could explain to me more of this challenge I am to face.”

"That sounds like a fair deal. You, stranger, may have just struck up an accord." Though his face was hidden, his eyes lit up.

* * *

“Enjoy your spooky festivities, Midgardians. Keep an eye out for tricks.” To blend in, Loki applied a grotesque undead makeup with his magic.

Bucky eyed the scary looking face. "That's surely not the same guy…”

“Amazing what some paint can do, eh, stranger?” The god’s brow ticked up, lips curving on one side, as he crossed his arms.

"Hm, yeah." He chose not to add much else. "I really don't get the hype. I really don't."

“I admit I am not overly fond of the makeup and theatrics,” he conceded with a soft nod. "But the general mischief and trickery of the night? Why, that is my forte.”

"So going by that, what are you, a magician of some kind? One of those exotic acts from Vegas…?”

Loki's indignation surged at the stranger's casualness. He could feel his seiðr begin to spark through the veins of his fingers before he immediately calmed himself and drew it back. “I know not of this ‘Vegas’ you speak of, but I assure I am no mere magician. I am a master at my craft.” He breathed a puff of air through his nose, reminding himself the stranger knew no better. “However, seeing as there may be errant eyes upon us, it would not be wise to demonstrate.”

"Very well. You're not the only one who's a master of his craft around here, friend." Bucky smiled coolly at the other guy. "Maybe one of these days we'll learn more about each other.”

“Yes, perhaps…” Calmer now, Loki let his lips curve up one on side again. He watched the man, wondering what exactly was the dark one's "craft."

"In due time," Bucky said, feeling all mysterious and elusive again. The other man was an interest in his field of vision, clearly intriguing.

* * *

Bucky sat high up on a wall, crouched down low with two twitching fingers slid into the holster containing his gun. Nothing would be escaping his sights tonight. "I don't like this quiet." Bucky shook it off and continued his watch.

Appearing from thin air, Loki grinned to himself, amused. “Frightened of a little silence, stranger?”

"Hardly," the masked man insisted bluntly, eyes sliding toward Loki. "Quiet breeds dark plans, crime and deception. I don't trust quiet."

“You do not trust many a thing,” Loki pointed out. “We have this in common.”

"And I'm sure you've got valid reasons as much as I have, stranger. Do you trust unfamiliar masked men asking you questions?"

'”Tis not a matter of trusting the questioner,” Loki answered with a careless shrug before setting his eyes on the other. “Perhaps I simply find the stranger doing the asking interesting. The real question is do you trust that I am answering truthfully?”

"Now, that is hard to say. In basic terms, I can't trust anything about you no matter how much you insist but, I will take your answers on board for now. For me, it depends how well you can play at my game and whether you can trust yourself enough to play it…and not lose."

A chuckled just barely escaped the god. “How much longer must I wait for this game? My time is precious, you know. As I imagine yours is.”

"I catch freedom when I can, stranger. I've had more than most the past few days but, if you want to see the kind of games I like to play you'll be picking up on a geographical hint I gave you."

Loki narrowed an eye at the stranger, dragging his gaze down the length of his dark attire and back up. “Oh? My perception must be off. Do tell, dark one.”

The soldier allowed himself the liberation of a muted laugh from behind the mask. "I wouldn't be this exceptional at what I do if I gave away all my secrets."

Hmm. _One does wonder what he is exceptional at…_ Focus. “This is true. Perhaps you could make a small exception.” Loki's lips quirked up on one side. “Just this once...?”

"I could but, one thing often leads to another. Screwing myself over is not on my to-do list, smooth talker." Bucky shrugged. "Why would I be tempted to make an exception for you?" he asked the other man curiously.

“If it appeases you, ‘screwing you over’ was not on my agenda either.” His brows and lips twitched again at the curious phrase. “Do you not find it…hm, curious, shall we say? That we have both admitted to preferring solitude, to be untrusting of anyone, even ourselves? Yet, I cannot speak for you, of course, but this is one of the longest conversations I have had in…months.” Loki stopped himself before he confessed how much he was enjoying himself, waiting for the other's response.

He was listening alright, judging silently as the other man spoke his piece. Dare he take off the mask; not quite yet. "I'll agree with you. Our circumstances—well, what little I can work out—is certainly 'curious' as you claim." Bucky scanned the man once again for any signs, anything he could use. "Aside from what I do, you've been strange and interesting enough to keep this conversation going."

Loki chuckled softly at ‘strange and interesting.’ “My thanks. And I return the compliment.”

"Thanks, I suppose." Responding with a gesture caught between a shrug and something that couldn't care less, Bucky was thankful he could hide his face sometimes. It had its advantages.

The air of nonchalance emitting from the stranger made Loki keen to find if there was anything he did give a damn about. The few shreds of information he had allowed Loki to learn only made his interest peak. He felt he was hiding it well, but Loki's innate curiosity was itching to discover what was hidden beneath that mask. But he could not fault the man; Loki was not showing him his true form either.

Poised on his feet, the masked man was almost ready to go because priorities were screeching at him. He set his dark eyes upon the slim stranger once again. Remaining as elusive as ever, he was about to turn and leave, but he glanced back. "I might see you again, maybe somewhere more…” mirth threaded through him, “…refrigerated. That's if you can find me." Bucky paused there, seeing if the other man had any last remarks.

Those pale red lips curved the tiniest bit again. Something in the back of Loki's mind clicked at what he presumed was another clue. He would ponder on it, later, when he was alone again. For now, he gave the departing stranger a brief nod—and resisted the urge to wink. “Yes…if you are lucky.”

He had to hold himself back from making a remark about the unpredictable nature of luck so, instead he simply returned the nod. Bucky left the scene, saying nothing more as he disappeared off down a shady street and out of sight. He felt content, perhaps even a little smug as he left the slender man to his options.

Loki watched the man go, a faint stirring in his belly causing him to draw his long coat tighter around him. Eyelids drifted closed, a whirl of wind, and Loki was back in his newly purchased brick-walled TriBeCa loft. As he prepared for sleep, the conversation and the masked man were at the forefront of his mind.

His dreams were full of him. Brief, images of dark hair, dark eyes; a quick flash of something shiny and metal. And skin. Both pale and shades darker. Loki woke with a start, his forehead and nape damp with sweat. Crinkling his nose, he dropped his head back to his pillow. “Well. That is most inconvenient.” Back to sleep.

* * *

Loki used a small amount of his magic to teleport to the top of the Empire State Building, perching at the base of the antenna spire. He breathed in the crisp air, enjoying the way it filled his lungs; the cold biting at his cheeks and nose. He watched the lights of the buildings and streets shine and blink across the city. This high up, the sounds of people and vehicle were too faint; all he could hear was wind.

Colder weather was coming, Loki could feel it in his bones. It would be easier to move about the city when less people were on the streets.

Earlier that day he had read in the _Times of New York_ of his handiwork. It confused him that a part of him felt remorse while reading of how he took those meaningless lives. Loki, God of Mischief, God of Lies, God of Fire—how could he feel remorse for anyone or any lowly mortal?

Loki needed to find his old self again, to regain control of the emotions he had let loose in that glass box, driven more mad by the confinement than anything The Other had or could have done.

He was bound to Midgard for the remainder of his life. And he would happily make it his home, especially if it kept him away from Odin. But he would do it on his terms.


	3. Engaging the Enemy | I am Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky starts out on a mission in Moscow with another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Stateside, he runs into a familiar stranger. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short bit, but it moves things along. Also, a quick heads up, since parts of the RP were picked up and left off on different days/nights (depending on when we had time to RP), some of the SLs will be separated in different chapters. If this is confusing, I apologize, but you're welcome to message me (or hit me up on tumblr [mcfiddlestan]) to ask any questions. 
> 
> xoxo, La
> 
> P.S. I promise "Snowy and Zima" will makes sense eventually.

To get this day started, a certain soldier was going to need a lot of coffee. He had been milling around in the communal kitchen area of S.H.I.E.L.D., impatiently waiting for the machine to finish brewing up his drink. When it was done, Bucky poured out a generous mug for himself and decided against the sugar; he didn't need it. Wrapping an ungloved hand around it he brought it to his lips and sipped while he turned to head back to his quarters. He wasn't even thinking about food. The soldier's sole concern was his mission. Bay Sixteen was prepped and ready, all he had to do was go there and check off the inventory.

Ahead of him was a short flight and a drop off point just outside the city limits of Moscow. Sparrow Hills, as he recalled from his notes. From there he was to make his way to the Kremlin where a local agent would brief him further. He had a lot to do.

ooOOOoo

"Let's engage the enemy shall we." He spoke only to himself as he exited the well-worn cab beside his drop-off point. Moscow was as cold and imposing as he remembered it, but not off putting. He'd been through worse, whether he remembered it or not. There were a lot of empty spaces in the soldier's head; vast chunks of voided memory and scrambled visions. In his sleep, they would sometimes erupt, but upon waking, they vanished without trace. It was frustrating, though he had no choice but to live with it. Knowing what he was and what his hands were capable of inflicting, perhaps it was best some things remained dead and buried.

ooOOOoo

Bucky picked his way through the sparse evening crowds towards the designated rendezvous point. He spoke to no one on the way, instead keeping his eyes front and forward. He was dressed as a civilian to avoid detection from other agencies, other eyes. Bucky kept his gloves on to hide the sheen of his cybernetic left arm. His hair was tied back into a ragged ponytail to keep his vision clean. He crossed the road and greeted the local agent. The guy he met was a former Soviet informant, now working undercover for S.H.I.E.L.D. on their international circuit. They conversed as they walked, heading towards the city. Bucky had a good hold of Russian but he wasn't fluent in it. He pulled his bag tighter over his shoulder and spoke to the man.

" У нас есть далеко идти? " (We have far to go?) Bucky asked him plainly. The local agent, known only by his codename, Victor, answered him in a voice clearly Russian but slowly Anglicised over the years.

" не далеко. Мы расположены в нескольких кварталах от отеля ." (Not far. We are located a few blocks away.)

The winter soldier gave a faint nod, keeping his dark eyes forward again. It had started to rain as they crossed the next road. Bucky knew this mission was a long haul but he was hardly frightened by that. At the back of his mind was the slim, mysterious man he had encountered in New York. He did wonder what would become of the solitary fellow. Shrugging it off, Bucky refocused on the street. He had little time for whimsical thinking here.

ooOOOoo

Victor and Bucky walked on down the rain-streaked pavements towards a small cafe nestled on the corner of the next block. The soldier took a moment to pull his bag tighter as they approached and his gaze swung sideways to the agent.

" Это место? " (This place?) Bucky asked and the agent nodded, humming his answer.

They exchanged few other words as they halted outside. Bucky felt a rush of sharp wind attack him and the rain picked up, lashing against his neck and hair. He hurried inside to be greeted by earthy perfumes and the aroma of coffee. This was a better place to be than out there. Not that Bucky minded the cold, there were times when he liked the warmth and nostalgia of these old places.

 

* * *

“Perhaps I shall venture out today," Loki decided. "Wander some of the more darkened streets of the city. Not at all hoping to find a dark stranger down one." He muttered that last sentence under his breath.

"Might be time to sharpen some hunting knives by the looks of things." Beneath the ski mask Bucky was smirking darkly.

Loki's lips curved. “Did someone say…knives?”

"Still no idea who you even are but, yes. Maybe I did. What's it to you, Slenderman?"

The corner of his mouth quirked. “I happen to enjoy the feel of a blade between my fingers from time to time, that is all. If you are curious, you could simply ask, you know…”

So the man, if he was even human, enjoyed a blade or two. "Alright, let's do this my way. Name, rank and number?" he asked with a small grin.

A low, deep purr rumbled in Loki's chest. “I am Loki. And I am afraid your other inquiries do not apply to me, dark one.”

He nodded once, keeping the action sparse and brief. "Well, least I now have a name to the face. Don't think I even revealed mine."

He cocked a brow. “Care to do so now? Or do you enjoy the title Dark One?”

"That, that I could get used to, Loki," he answered testing out the alien combination of letters. "Get to know me better—that's if I get to trusting you—and I might tell you about what I am."

“Hmm.” He quite liked the way his name sounded coming from that deep growl of a voice. At the Dark One's final words, Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if he cared about the man's trust. He could not be sure exactly what he wanted from him, but his trust was certainly not at the top of his list.  'What I am'…now  that was intriguing . “How does one 'get to know you' then, hmm?”

Regarding Loki from the safety of his mask, the soldier's eyes became overcast with a dirtier glaze; tainted with sneakier thoughts. "That can be done a few ways, but do I look like the type to just hand over such information without a fight? Honestly…” Bucky said with an air of confidence.

As he spoke, something in the other man's eyes altered. Loki's own eyes narrowed so slightly it was barely visible, and he felt a faint stirring in the deepest part of his belly. He cleared his throat, lips quirking again. “Would you respond easier if there  was a fight?”

The soldier watched the other man's reaction, hoping to catch a glimpse of any tells or twitches he might have. Bucky raised his jaw as he spoke. "My natural territory is  not within a debating chamber, let's put it that way. I've fought my whole life. It's what I know," he added as an afterthought.

“Ah. A warrior, then?” Loki tried to keep the contempt from his voice, but knew he failed. He turned his body slightly away from the other, sighing a little. “I have dealt with your kind my entire existence. Or rather, put up with.” His jaw clenched with perfectly clear memories that were not entirely pleasant.

Bucky kept still and unmoving like a sniper on his target hearing what the other guy had said. His eyes were lightly focused on Loki, even as he turned away, perhaps triggered by a thought. Who was he to know? "In due time you may have that question either confirmed or denied." The soldier crossed his arms in a strong gesture of defense. "I'm not in the mood for answering questions tonight."

“Ehehe…” Loki chuckled softly as he faced the Dark One again. “Oh, it has been confirmed.” His back straightened a little further when the man crossed his arms, his blue eyes did a quick journey down to the man's booted feet and back up to his face. “Then, pray tell, warrior, what  are you in the mood for?”

He snapped a dark gaze to Loki's face and then the mirth kicked in, making Bucky's eye twitch and spasm on the rim of the socket. Whatever this guy was on, Bucky found it was like handling razor wire. His inner monologue screamed at him to calm the fuck down. "Are you trying to tempt me, Loki? Right now, I'm probably in the mood for a decent coffee. I need it." Under his breath afterwards he said to himself, "Then maybe we can go a few rounds…”

“You do not seem to have any objections…if I were playing the role of tempter.” Loki's brows lifted genially and he held out an arm. “Lead the way. My treat.” He kept the  almost flirtatious smile on his lips, showing no response to the other's final sentence. How was the warrior to know of his superior hearing? Mentally, Loki responded,  That was the plan.

Bucky finally tore off his mask and left it  hanging off his shoulder. He pounced down off his perch and landed with a soft crunch. "I'm something of danger magnet, so I don't deny…things." The soldier paced up to the man and stood in front of him. "Your treat, eh? That's generous of you," he said with a cocky little smirk. "Follow my lead. I know somewhere that's shabby chic. Might suit you."

The moment the warrior tore the mask from his face, Loki's eyes were glued to that mouth, the pouty lips, the sturdy chin.  Nghh . The god was not expecting that. He did not care to be caught off-guard, and he firmly planted his feet, pulling up to his full height, at least a few inches above the other man, when he brought himself closer to Loki. His eyes fell to those lips again when they curved in an overconfident grin that had Loki's lips curving once more. He cocked his head at the words 'shabby chic,' unsure of their meaning. But he was unwilling to back down now and happily followed the warrior.

The wintered warrior only looked once behind him at the other man. He kept the smirk coupled with the flicks of captivated interest that Loki had drawn from him. For a sharp trap, Bucky was handling his barbs well, least he thought so. The mask swung, grazing the two day old stubble as he walked off. The smooth talker would have to follow; Bucky wasn't one for formalities. Winds caught up with him and he targeted a quiet, discreet but old fashioned cafe on the nearest corner. There he waited for the other male to follow. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just take this opportunity to applaud my RP partner's excellent writing skills. Her Bucky is sheer perfection. Seriously. 
> 
> xo


	4. Russia Unchained | A God Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky continues on with his mission in Russia, working alongside Victor; Bucky and Loki strike a bargain for an exchange of basic information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the reviews! Any and all feedback is very welcome as this is still a new thing for me to publish. Thank you for taking the time to read. Enjoy. 
> 
> xoxo,  
> La

Russia Unchained

Since his arrival in the Russian federation, Bucky had been greeted coldly by the bleak winter weather of Moscow. Now, he found himself holed up in an old cafe with an Agent Victor, listening to him brief him on the particulars of what lay ahead. Bucky listened carefully, only pausing to adjust the tie in his hair. He scraped the damp hair tighter into the band.

His face was focused on the man speaking to him in broken English interspersed with a few particulars he picked up on. Mentions of 'Commander Petrov' snagged his attention. Bucky had read up on his target's profile and it wasn't pretty. The man had blood on his hands; a lot of it.

It was the soldier's job to take him out of the city and extinguish him. How he chose to do that was up to him because Bucky was too rogue to listen to Fury on killing techniques.

Much of his Red Room training would come into play whilst he was here. The soldier was thankful for it. Some things he remembered, other things were obsolete.

Bucky was neither a free agent nor a free man, but listening to Victor explain things he already knew, Bucky stole a glimpse of his cybernetic arm; unchained from S.H.I.E.L.D. or not, he wasn't sure if he was entirely human sometimes.

oooOOooo

He sat in silence to watch the traffic motor on by, lights streaking like flies in the dark toward their destinations. Sometimes a horn would sound but high up in his makeshift apartment, Bucky was still and motionless. He was busy making plans for the day ahead, leaving the rest to Gods or fate, or whatever it was controlling the world. The soldier nursed a coffee in his cybernetic hand and curled over to look down on the street below. It had just started to snow. Thin slivers of ice rained down on the damp concrete below him. Dark and battle worn eyes watched the flutters of cold shimmer down. A rogue gust of wind whipped some across the window frame and sent a few into his coffee. ʺGreat...ʺ he muttered, but shrugging it off, he drank it anyway, still looking down on the world being sunk into cold around him.

 

* * *

_ [Author's note: Unsure what photo was posted because I couldn’t find it, but I suspect it was Hiddles’ ‘O’ face from “Only Lovers Left Alive.”] _

ʺNot going to ask...about that...face.ʺ Had Bucky actually pouted. Nevermind, he did.

“Curious, warrior? I could fix that for you.”

ʺI know what it looks like, Loki; I just don't want to know who you even  allowed to take such a picture.ʺ

“Who's to say I did not take it myself? You've no idea what I am capable of.”

ʺYou're going to get your tongue trapped with remarks like that, Mister Loki. That's all I'm saying.ʺ He nodded, lips only just twitching.

Loki smirked. “It would not be the first time my tongue got me in trouble. Or rewarded,” he added in a soft murmur.

ʺYou're all about words aren't you? That much is obvious, my skinny friend.ʺ Bucky smirked back at last, feeling a little smug.

Loki's face darkened, he cocked a brow. “Skinny? Appearances can be deceiving, warrior. Words may be my specialty, but I assure you, I do have talents elsewhere.”

ʺYou're not the only one with talents in other fields, Wordsmith. Just because you know nothing about  me gives you no right to condemn what you don't understand.ʺ

Loki's brow lowered, his chin lowered, and his lips quirked up at one side. “No condemnation on my part, warrior. Perhaps my words struck a chord I had not expected.” His brows drew together slightly. “ Skinny is not exactly a compliment, you know?” The description bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Bucky watched him for a moment, studying every precision cut inch of that face. He inwardly had to admit the guy had some kind of other worldly appeal about him, but that was crazy talk, right? He shrugged and hoped so. ʺI know it's not a compliment, Loki. I mean, what are you expecting, a dinner date?ʺ the soldier said, laughing at the ridiculous notion of it. ʺI'm not here to flatter you or stroke your ego.ʺ

“Nor am I asking you to, Dark One. If that was all I was in need of, I could find any mort—one…to fulfill that purpose. Particularly, on the streets of this city.”

ʺI'll tell you something about this city, friend. It's dirty and it's full of criminals. You sure you want in with that…? I mean, someone of your obvious,ʺ Bucky paused, and his eyes faltered over Loki, ʺcalibre could do better, right?ʺ

Loki couldn't help but preen at the flattery, little as it was. “I said,  if that was what I needed. Frankly, 'tis not a high priority at the moment. I am enjoying other outlets for my energy. For now, at least.” He watched the long-haired man as he spoke. Sometimes Loki was such a great liar, he could convince himself of his half-truths.

ʺWell, you have fun enjoying your little outlets. I can be pretty sure one day they'll run dry and those trigger fingers will be itching again…maybe…” The man paused for a few seconds drawing out the last thing he was going to add. He smirked at Loki. ʺMaybe for something a little more dangerous.ʺ One of his dark brows arched up and the composure was one very self assured.

“For all your claims of me not knowing anything about you, you assert to know much about me.” Loki shifted closer, one step at a time, his blue eyes set on the warrior's, his voice lowering to a soft growl. “There is not much I find dangerous here on— in New York.” An eyebrow bobbed once. “Perhaps I enjoy the danger I find.”

So the man had decided to move towards him. Bucky remained. He couldn't back away because fear wasn't a part of what made him who he was; it never had been. ʺFirst impressions count for a lot and I've seen enough in my time to be able to  speculate your kind.ʺ Bucky met Loki's eyes, all alluring and electrifying, and he twitched into a light smile. ʺPerhaps you do, friend. Tell me, what kind of danger do you enjoy?ʺ The soldier's left brow arched up curiously as he questioned.

Hmm. The man did not intimidate easily; Loki could respect that. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, focusing instead—briefly—on the man's lips as he spoke. He let out a mixture of a scoff and chuckle, turning away slightly. “I am not so foolish enough to share that, warrior. It is mine alone to revel in. Perhaps one day I will share it with you.” He flicked his gaze back to the darker man, giving a short shake of his head, his lips in a wry grin. “Not today.”

ʺNothing's stopping. If I wanted information out of you, I've got a few tricks of my own, friend,ʺ he said in return with an air of darkened mystery towards the other man. Bucky watched as he set to turn away, maybe leave, and he tentatively stepped towards him. Despite the split second of hesitation, Bucky was still unnerved by this other guy. ʺIn your own time, you will…unless I prise it out of you,ʺ the soldier said, half teasing him with a cocky, confident little grin.

Loki was not sure why, but the man's words amused him. Absently, he ran his tongue around his teeth. “And you believe you could?”

ʺBelieve isn't a part of my equation. I can, and I will, if I have to,ʺ Bucky stated plain as day. There was a light in his eyes, masked only by the darkness of the chocolate colour in places.

ʺWill you?ʺ Loki nearly hummed the question. The man's confidence, his unwillingness to relent…it was doing something to the god. He was used to being treated as a liar, a criminal, even as a joke. But there was a semblance of near respect from this man. In the back of his mind, Loki wondered what it might be like to see that come a little undone, preferably by his hand.  In due time , he thought. Remembering himself, Loki took a deep breath and put a little more distance between them. “That almost sounds like a challenge, Dark One. Methinks you are more than just a simple warrior.” He grinned a little around the words.

Bucky seemed pleased but he was careful enough to keep such inward selfish pleasures off his facial expressions. It seemed this man was a clever little thing. He was certainly a sharp one. The soldier caught the other's grin and returned with one of his own, tempered by a confidence that steeped his vision. ʺYou might—and I offer this only as a suggestion—be onto something.ʺ Bucky quirked both brows up and smiled back at Loki.

Loki chuckled lowly. “I wonder, warrior, what you could possibly think a—what did you call me? Wordsmith? What could a little wordsmith such as myself get up to that would be of any interest to you?”

ʺYeah,ʺ he confirmed. ʺI did call you that. Maybe it's a new name I got for you. Besides, even guys like you, that like to play with libraries, can be dangerous. In this game, nothing and no-one can be trusted.ʺ

Loki smiled again, his white teeth gleaming against pale red lips, a quiet 'ehehe' vibrating from his throat. “I hope you will not mind my saying so, but…I am enjoying our banter. Very much.”

Bucky's eyes were fleetingly drawn to the man's mouth and teeth. Jesus, they were like fangs but good-looking ones. He stopped himself right there before his mind diverted anymore. Eyes back on his target; if that's what Loki was to him. ʺGlad to be at least a bit of entertainment for you,ʺ he said in response, feeling a smile being triggered from his mouth.

“'Entertainment.' Interesting choice of word. Though apropos. Am I entertaining you as well? Or are you simply killing time?”

ʺYou're certainly more talkative than my usual tar—game,ʺ he said honestly to Loki. ʺI can't say I like you, but your company has proven a useful distraction for now.ʺ

He laughed again, more deeply. “There is a long list of people I can then add your name to who do not care for me. 'Tis a bit of a shame. I am finding I enjoy your acerbic wit the more I converse with you.” He gave the other a shit-eating grin.

Bucky found himself laughing darkly at Loki. His mouth twitched from a light pout into a grin as mirth took hold. ʺHn—maybe we are getting somewhere now,ʺ Bucky noted. ʺI've already said I do not trust easy, but prove me wrong and I might cut ya break.ʺ

“Hmm. That seems like a lot of work, warrior. On my part. What is the popular phrase?” He pursed his lips. “Ah, yes. What is in it for me?”

ʺSo the man was to haggle over me. That's new. Hmm,ʺ he folded his arms and placed a hand on his stubbled chin. ʺI might be inclined to show you what I do.ʺ

“That so?” Loki's brows rose briefly, lowering again as he contemplated. “Tell me, what would you constitute as proof?”

ʺYes, that is  so ,ʺ Bucky repeated back, mirroring some of his words. ʺHm, proof can come any which way you please, but for my tastes, as long as you don't try and kill me in reaction to things you might see…we may have a deal.ʺ

“I have no plans to kill you. Likewise, unless you cross me, I would have no need to eliminate you.” He sucked air through his teeth, debating with himself on his next words. “If I were to share something with you, something I keep hidden for specific reasons… Might that convince you?”

Now things had got a touch more interesting. Bucky found himself considering this deeply for a few moments. ʺAlright, I'll bite. Depending on specifics, it may just swing things in your favour. Go on…” he said to encourage Loki.

Without a word, Loki moved to fully face the warrior, taking a deep breath, and hoping to the gods he was not about to make a huge mistake. Channeling the magic that coursed through his veins, a gold light began to shimmer brightly around him. Moments later he stood before the warrior in his true form: shoulder-length black hair, viridian eyes, his face a shade paler than in his Midgardian façade.

Bucky should've been running but he didn't. Why didn't he run from this? Surely a sane man would have done so. However, Bucky wasn't sure what  he was some of the time. Especially when he remembered his left arm. His dark eyes were dilated seeing the shimmering transformation that unfolded before him. There was something familiar about it but, he could not place it. ʺOkay…” he said with an astounded low whistle. ʺFirst question,ʺ keeping his voice low, ʺare you even human?ʺ

Loki watched the other man for his reaction. He sighed softly, relieved he did not run off screaming or have some other adverse reaction. Before answering, he rolled his head, his neck cracking with it. He had missed his longer hair, but the shorter style was necessary at the moment. He set his now greener eyes on the man and grinned at his question. “I am not.

I am a god. The God of Mischief, to be exact. Forgive me; I must return to my other form. It is dangerous for me to look like this in this place.” The gold light shimmered once more and Loki returned to the shorter hair and bluer eyes. His suit was different; a sleek, navy blue number that made his eyes shine even bluer.

Once the man—no God, this guy was an actual God—had reverted back to his former guise Bucky eyed him. He had no idea what he was even looking for, but what he had seen had left him fascinated. Perhaps in awe even. Even his illusions were smooth as he spoke. ʺThat was pretty impressive, I've got to say. God or not,ʺ he continued on, ʺyou don't scare me off you.ʺ Bucky spoke honestly for once, not attempting to divert away from his opinion of the man.

“Good. I had hoped I would not.” He angled his head slightly. “I have shared something deeply private with you. Perhaps I may be graced with a name…?”

The warrior was about to answer him but he stopped. This was a big ask for him but the trade seemed fair. He looked up and regarded the taller man. ʺI've only got two names,ʺ he said in a breathless whisper. ʺMy codename and another that I'm only aware of because someone had to remind me a long time ago.ʺ The soldier paused again, latching onto those eyes looking at him. ʺThe first is 'Winter Soldier' and the other is Bucky. I have no idea how I came to have the second one.ʺ

Loki's eyes remained fixed on the warrior's face as he spoke, his brow slowly furrowing. It smoothed again once he revealed his name; or names, rather. Loki's lips parted but he found himself unsure what to say. “Do you have a preference?”

Bucky nodded at him. ʺOutside of, let's call it work, I prefer Bucky. It's kinda stuck so I keep with it.ʺ The soldier felt a weight  just pull of his shoulders from the revelation of his truth. It wasn't much but, his shoulders eased.

Loki gave a short nod. “All right, then. Bucky.”

Bucky gave him a nod a smile in return. Least the guy hadn't asked too many questions about it. ʺSo we've had our little exchange of information. What now?”

“I am almost certain we've not shared  everything . But no matter.” He smiled once more, almost pleasantly. “Something to look forward to. On future visits.”

ʺNo, I'm definitely sure we've got a lot things to learn about each other.ʺ Bucky snapped up the chance to smile properly at Loki, showing more teeth than he usually did.

Ah. A smile. The man— Bucky —should do that more often. The dark, menacing look could draw one in, but that smile was…Well. It was not something Loki should be focusing on. He had matters to attend to—no matter how much he enjoyed losing track of time with…Bucky. Blushing at his own thoughts, Loki turned his face away. “I am afraid I must take my leave. Perhaps we can continue this another time. Sooner…rather than later.”

Bucky kept a hold of the smile for a little longer than he'd expected himself to and as he heard Loki had to go, the man just nodded. ʺSooner than later sounds fine by me,ʺ he said, giving one last glimpse of his smile before hooking up the lower half of his mask. Bucky's fingers flexed within his gloves and although his smile could not be seen, the glint in his eyes stayed behind. He turned to go. ʺI'll see you sooner than you think.ʺ With that Bucky was off at a sprint, fleeing off to embrace the darkness. **  
**


End file.
